Change
by Laon Kame
Summary: AU. Fai runs away, no matter what universe it is. And, of course, in a university where Kurogane's forced to be his dorm partner and everyone else stands on the sidelines, it's a hectic ride. KuroFai with a side of SS. T for language.
1. Smoke

**A/N: Well, finally, I come up with something new and improved. Truthfully, this wasn't supposed to come out until the sixth, but due to Hel-Goddess-of-the-Underworld's help, I can present to you: "Change" without a care in the world (except maybe the fact that everything can go to hell and I never finish the work, but that's a different story).**

**EDIT: Reuploaded and ready to go. :) **

**This is presented to you with BoyxBoy love, gore, insanity, a rating that might go up because of the GORE/INSANITY (ladies and gentlemen of the jury, since when did Ashura kill without gore?), heterosexual fluffy love, political undercurrents, and a university that may not quite cut it on the "real" scale. Forgive me for these offenses, and move on. :)**

**In any case, I would like to say that there will be fillers. There will be random crap throughout the story that makes you ask: "What is the significance of this?" I shall answer you: There is none. Things are as simple as you want or as significant as you want. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Tsubasa. My thief hasn't exactly stolen CLAMP away--that'll come at a later date. ;)**

**Summary: **AU. Fai runs away, no matter what universe it is. And, of course, in a university where Kurogane's forced to be his dorm partner and everyone else stands on the sidelines, it's a hectic ride. KuroFai with a side of SS. T for language. There are hints of KuroTomo, but it just doesn't WORK in this story. There are also hints of every other pairing in this story, but only to the extent that is imagined--like in CLAMP's original Tsubasa.

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**Chapter 1 - Smoke**

**Four Years Ago, October**

_Maybe he should stop smoking._

_Fai idly watched various people walk quickly by him and their attempts to not breathe in the cigarette smoke._

_He supposed it was good for them--after all, now they wouldn't have to breathe the same air as him. "Good for them," he repeated aloud, a hand reaching up to let him drag in the cigarette fumes again. The barest hints of nicotine flooded his lungs before he blew out again. _

_It was a cold day, the grass in the park being covered with frost. His breath ghosted out with the pale white of condensed water, dirtied by the warm gray of smoke._

_Fai leaned against the thick base of the tree, looking upon the scenery with dull aquamarine eyes. "Maybe I should quit," he said aloud, perhaps to fill the empty silence around him. "But…" he trailed off, spotting a rather obvious man trying to sneak up on him. "Hello Ashura," he smiled, looking over his shoulder. _

_The man looked slightly annoyed. "It's good that you can smile like that, considering what you just said." _

_Fai kept on smiling. "It's another anniversary. It's not like I can change the past." He bent down to the grass at his feet and swept a gloved hand through the frost. It was cold._

"_You're still smoking. You're not over it, Yuui," Ashura said, a (too warm) hand descending on his shoulder. His mouth twitched at the name._

_His brother died that day. The same frosted over day, on the other side of the Fence._

_Until he was killed._

_Fai cast another smile over his shoulder. "Who knows?" he fibbed, "I think I might actually be addicted." _

"_Don't lie to me, Yuui." Ashura's eyes were glowing with slight hurt and then, on the more prominent side, anger. Fai felt the familiar pang of guilt, and looked away._

"_Sorry," he said, taking another drag from his cigarette. He blew out, watching the tarnished white vapor spiral in a frenzy before dying away and dissolving into nothing. _

_Right then, he wished he could do that._

Fai dragged his luggage up to the dorm, rolling it up the steep incline towards Tsubasa, the university he would be attending until he had to move away again--until _that person_ found him again.

He already had the files down as "Fai", a name he could actually get used to having. He didn't know how many times he had to apologize to his acquaintances for not responding to "Zell" or "Cloud". At least, this time, he didn't need to focus on keeping his fake identity up. This time, it was one that he had used since his brother.

A rather loud voice woke him from his reverie. "Dammit! What the hell do you mean by that, Tomoyo?!" Fai looked up, to be appraised by the most ironic sight of a petite woman dragging a man that looked at least a foot taller than her.

Despite himself, Fai's curiosity was piqued. Unwittingly, his legs changed course to follow the bumbling pair. His mind dimly noted that they were headed towards the main office building. Good. He needed to check up with Yûko--the president of Tsubasa--as soon as possible, too.

The man was still yelling. "I thought you said that all I needed was five years and then I was _done_!" His short black hair was tugged down as the woman yanked on his ear. She was dressed in office attire, almost fitting the stereotypical image of an attorney except for the short stature.

The woman--Tomoyo, he had called her--, easily in her later twenties, twisted the ear she had a hold on and kept on walking. "You have no choice in this matter, Kurogane," Fai heard her say, a surprisingly soft voice for someone that was physically dragging a man uphill.

"Dammit! You_promised!_" The man, on the flipside, was rough all around, the loose T-shirt doing nothing to conceal his muscular build.

Fai thought it was amusing that--what was his name again? Kurogane, right?--he was letting the woman pull him by the ear. Endearing, almost, because there was no way that he couldn't free himself from her grip.

He entered the main office building, following them slowly to the receptionist before they were sent to the stairs. Remarkably enough, when he said that he had an appointment with the president (not that he did), the receptionist gave him the same directions.

Leaving his luggage at the desk, Fai walked up the stairs as he listened in to their conversation, the stairwell eerily empty--usually, people would be coming up and down here with schedule questions and things like that.

"The more you fight this, the more I'll have to check up on you during the year," the woman was saying calmly.

"Fuck that!" Kurogane's voice was outraged. "If I don't attend this place, you won't have to check up on me at all!"

"I will not let you go to the military." Fai raised his eyebrows slightly. There was another floor to go, and since he wasn't dragging anyone forcibly by the ear, he had caught up so that he was only a segment of the stairwell behind.

Usually, when someone would attend a university, they wouldn't just ditch it all and attend the military--even if they had education there. And, judging by the muscular tone of the man in front of him, and the lack of complaint about the pain that was probably in his ear, he wanted to be a soldier--which meant the probable death factor. Especially with the Endo war going on.

"Wh--Who said I was going to the military?"

"I saw your application papers."

"_What?_ You went through my things?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"Dammit, Tomoyo--"

"You will not go there, Kurogane."

"Tomoyo--"

"No."

"Tomo--"

"No." Fai noticed the hand twist again, and the man bit out a hiss.

"What jurisdiction do you have over me? You can't make me stay," Kurogane growled next.

"I can bring this to court--no matter what the cost, Kurogane. I can set you under my custody without a problem. Though you are twenty three, it's still your childish attitude that'll let me win."

Fai nearly whistled. So she probably was an attorney, or at least someone well versed with law--not to mention the fact that the man was the same age as him.

At that moment, the woman looked over her shoulder and saw him a few steps down. Her stern complexion melted away to a friendly expression as she promptly turned around and smiled, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, but do you need something?"

She was pretty, Fai noted. And she had probably noticed him following them. "Not at all," he smiled back. It was easy enough, considering he had been doing it for the past few years. "I just have an appointment with the president."

"Oh? We do too," she remarked. "Shall we go together, then?"

"Sure," Fai replied. It wasn't as if he hadn't been _doing_ that the whole time, in any case. No, not at all.

"My name is Tomoyo," she said, resuming the walk up the stairs. Fai gave a smile to her captive, getting a first good look at him as he quickened his pace to walk beside her.

The scowl that was sent his way didn't do anything to mar the set face. He was Japanese, a rare commodity in the people that Fai had met, excluding Ashura. But he didn't want to think about Ashura right then, so he continued to take in the red eyes (contacts maybe?) and tanned skin and short black hair.

The woman promptly let go of Kurogane's ear, before grabbing on to the other one as the larger man tried to make a break for it.

"This is my little brother. He's had a problem with registration," she said pleasantly as Fai fell into step beside her. His eyebrow quirked in amusement. Judging from their conversation, there was more of a problem with the little brother himself.

"Stop talking as if I'm not here," the man growled, finally taking it upon himself to pry the fingers off of his ear (with a bit of difficulty, Fai noted, amused) and rising to his full height. He was a clear two feet taller than his sister, topping at least six feet--Fai himself was an inch shy of it.

"Eh? And what's little brother's name?" he smiled, knowing full well he was playing with Kurogane's head. He was setting his fake identity firmly in place this time--most likely, this man was going to be attending this school, so setting a first impression was important. First impressions were never washed away.

The man grunted. "Kurogane." Tomoyo, at this point, had pulled open the door out of the stairwell and walked through; they followed suit.

Fai's mouth twitched in amusement. There were so many things to be done with that name, and to top it all off, Japanese had _suffixes_. "Ehh?" he exclaimed. "So I can call you Kuro-chan from now on! Or maybe Kuro-tan…no, Kuro-sama fits better--wait! Kuro-_chama_!" He gave a twirl and a swish for good measure, large hand movements encompassing the hallway.

Fai swore he could see the red flaring in Kurogane's face with each nickname, and then even more as he heard Tomoyo stifle a choked snicker.

"Don't call me those nicknames, you damn idiot!" The roar was impressive, but it was cut off by a "shh!" from a staff member.

Still, Fai smiled and pulled off the flair of his caricature as he always did--"Aww. Kuro-chama is such a cute name though!"

Kurogane crossed his arms, barking at him like a dog. "Dammit, we don't even know _your_ name!"

_Nor will you ever_. "Oh! Kuro-chii's right," he exclaimed without hesitation--already another nickname added to his collection. "Excuse my rudeness. My name is Fai D. Fluorite." He swept a bow right there in the middle of the hall, and then popped up with an energetic smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance!"

They had reached the president's office, and it smelled vaguely of expensive smoke--to Fai's nose, in any case. A scented candle or expensive tobacco--it was either or.

He, continuing with the bow with a smooth motion, clicked the door open for Tomoyo and Kurogane to enter. "After you," he smiled cheerfully.

"Oh?" a voice, most recognizably Yûko's, exclaimed lazily. "Tomoyo, you've brought him?"

"Of course, Yûko," Tomoyo said, smiling and entering. Kurogane looked as if he wanted to run again, but then Fai pushed him in.

"Oh? Fai as well, huh." Yûko thankfully used his registered name. She, out of all the people, was probably the only one besides Ashura that knew his real name. Or, perhaps, that other man that Ashura had--

No. It was too dangerous to think of that _here_.

"Of course, Yûko!" he said, without a noticeable lack of chipper attitude, he hoped. "But Tomoyo-chan and Kuro-chama should go first." He smiled, moving his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

Yûko smiled back, before bringing up a smoking pipe up to her mouth again and blowing it out the open window behind her. Fai twitched, his hand jerking involuntarily. "So. Tomoyo, what do you possibly need?" The president continued without apparent notice, but he was sure she knew.

"Well, it appears that I can't rent an apartment near here for my little brother to attend this university, and there isn't an available dorm room on the internet. I was hoping that perhaps you could make him room with someone?" Tomoyo said this in a slight rush, jumping over her words at some points before slowing down to reveal her nervousness.

"Of course. But can you pay the price?" Fai recognized the question. Yûko had posed the same question to him the first time he had stepped into the office, just a few months ago.

Tomoyo smiled prettily--uncertainly--before replying, "I have an Italian wine. Aged since 1983."

Fai gave a giggle as Kurogane twitched.

"Hm," Yûko said, considering this. Fai clapped a hand over his mouth as Kurogane's anger seemed almost palpable, trying to stifle a bout of laughter. "French, before 1990? And the normal amount of sake."

Tomoyo looked almost relieved. "Yes, that too."

"Hm," Yûko repeated, a slow smirk crawling across her face. "Fai, here's your new roommate."

…

"_What?_" Kurogane's reaction was an explosion in the room. "I don't want to attend this university in the first place, much less room with an idiot!"

"Oh. You already know each other. Fate works in amazing ways, wouldn't you think, Fai?" Yûko gave him a pointed look.

Of course, this was to be a part of his price--his privacy.

So he continued with his fake identity, chirping, "Kuro-chan-sama is rooming with me!" For good measure, he clapped his hands excitedly.

"Thank you, Yûko," Tomoyo said, voice laced with gratitude.

"We've known each other for years, Tomoyo. No need to be so polite," the president replied, a rare kind smile gracing her features before she drew out the pipe and inhaled.

Fai twitched at her_second_ blatant provocation.

"Come on, Kuro-tan! Let's go unpack for our room!" he said, straining his smile a little bit as he grabbed Kurogane's arm.

"Wait, Fai," Yûko said, jingling going on behind his back. "Your room keys. Dorm M3. And don't drag away Tomoyo and her brother yet. I still have something to discuss with them."

He swung around, tiptoeing like a ballerina and taking it from Yûko daintily. "Thank you, Yûko-chan!" Then, turning to Kurogane, he smiled prettily and said, "Nice to meet you, again! I'll be unpacking, so I'll see you later!"

He walked calmly out of the room and closed the door behind him, taking a breath of fresh air before sprinting down the empty stairwell, a hand groping for a pack of cigarettes that weren't there and a lighter that didn't have any fluid.

Had he been anywhere but _there_, he would have cried as he felt his grip on his brother start to let go.

* * *

**A/N: Does it cut it? Yes? No? Maybe? It-thing? There may be some mistakes in punctuation and things like that, but it'll be fixed on the seventh--along with the very long second chapter (that has already been written). Over 4k words, that one is. **

**Excuse the tad OOCness of the characters--it's slightly necessary and slightly me just trying to get things right and missing.**

**You DID read it, right? Yes? Then please review. :)**


	2. Meetings, Partings, and Starting Over

**A/N: Well, here we go. Second chapter. Please forgive me for all of the OOCness... and filler and tonesetting and redundant meetings... -sweatdrop- Can you believe I have over twenty pages of this story written out? And this chapter is ten pages, so... It's probably going to get longer as it goes.. However, update dates will be getting further apart as the year goes by, so I can't guarantee anything.. **

**Disclaimer: Why am I writing fanfiction if I owned it? D:**

* * *

**Chapter 2--Meetings, Partings, and Starting Over**

**Ten Years Ago, March**

_Fai was still a recluse at thirteen. Ashura had only come four years ago, but even so, he was still afraid of people. He hadn't interacted at all with anyone well since he had started school. All of the kids in his grade made fun of him and his blond hair and how he didn't seem to fit in with his blue eyes and strange accent of Japanese. He was easily the top of his class even though he hadn't been educated until he was nine. _

_And now, Ashura had gone on a trip, saying he'd be back in a year, leaving behind the housekeeper to take care of him. She was a nice lady, and there were other men that were nice to him too, but no one could replace Ashura._

_The day after his departure, Fai was hanging around the park alone, poking at the last vestiges of snow and trying not to slip on the cement. It was weird, how when water was solid, it formed a molecular structure that was lighter than its liquid. It was unnatural, really. But little Fai supposed that his existence was unnatural. _

_At this point, Ashura would usually pat him on the back and tell him not to think like that (even if he hadn't said anything, the man said his face gave him away), and Fai felt hollow inside again._

_He sat himself on the swing, mindlessly pushing slightly on the ground to swing a bit back and forth, a rhythmic motion that reflected his heartbeat. _

_A soccer ball rolled in front of him, and it took him a moment to register. After a moment, he got off the swing and grabbed the ball, fully intending to give it back to whoever had lost it--before he was tackled to the ground._

"_Give me back my ball!" A small body had tackled him from behind, sending him sprawling into the soft cushion of the synthetic material that was the playground's ground. "Give me back my ball!" The voice, now decidedly female and young, rose in a frantic pitch._

_Fai got up, taking care to not topple the small girl on his back. She couldn't have been more than six years old. "Here's your ball," he said quietly, passing the object up to the crying girl, ignoring the scraped skin of his hands that he had used to cushion his fall. It wasn't much compared to--no, he didn't want to think of that._

_Abruptly, the screaming faded into faint hiccups as she tentatively grabbed the ball from him and ran the small distance to the supporting swing pole. Fai felt a little hurt, but it always hurt since Ashura had left. _

_Feeling small and desolate, Fai walked back towards the swing and sat down again, fully expecting the girl to leave. _

_He swung slightly back and forth for a few minutes before he heard footsteps approach him. Small footsteps, and he looked up to find the girl offering the soccer ball to him._

_Fai was a bit confused._

"_Play?" she asked._

_Fai was surprised. But the girl was so tentative, her voice so soft with that little bit of guilt; he couldn't exactly say no. And then--he didn't have anything else to do. It wasn't as if Ashura would come back--_

"_Okay. Let's play."_

_Her face lit up, and she smiled. Fai had never made anyone smile before--only Ashura, but that was __**Ashura.**_

"_Smile?" she offered again._

_Fai felt the swelling pain of loneliness deflate a little, sending warmth throughout his body._

"_Okay. I'll smile."_

"Another kid? You got your keys?" A security guard was poised outside of the Mokona dorm, baton tapping against his shoulder in a casual way. In fact, the guard didn't look older than Fai himself.

A grin poised itself on his face as he jingled the keys around his finger (he had already locked it onto a key ring). "Yup! My name's Fai--nice to meet you!" He paid no heed to the "kid" crack--he barely looked twenty, in the first place.

The guard raised an eyebrow. "You're the first with a key. Congratulations--Yûko's made everyone come here and then go to her office with all of their luggage. I'm Touya, resident guard. Welcome to the Mokona dorm." Touya's voice was dry and skeptical, his syntax implying the irony of it all. There was no one in the dorm in the first place, and by the afternoon, people should have been crowding it with their things.

"Nice to meet you, Touya!" Fai smiled. "I actually went to see Yûko before I came here, so I was just lucky." Touya unlocked the dorm building's door, holding it open so Fai could wrestle his packed duffel bag and roller inside. In truth, the main office had still been empty for all of Touya's "sending them to the president", but it wasn't worth dwelling on.

"First name basis? You must be a friend of hers, then," Touya noted, grabbing the duffel and slinging it over his back. "She usually tells people to call her Ms. Yanahara."

Fai shrugged, pulling the roller with both hands and getting it over the ledge of the door. "You could say that," he replied with a smile as he rolled the bag into the common room. Grabbing his key, he walked over to his assigned room, clicking open the lock and rolling in his bag.

The room was small--a bed rammed against the window in the rectangular room, and another on the side of the room, forming an awkward L shape with a desk in between the beds, and another set up against the opposite wall. The closet was camouflaged as a pin-up board with sliding doors. Fai tossed the duffel bag on the bed lined against the wall, and rolled his bag under the thin mattress before starting to unpack his duffel.

"Is that all you brought?" Touya asked from behind him, slight incredulity in his voice.

If Fai had his way, he wouldn't have needed the roller either, but he wouldn't say that. "Yep," he replied with a sheepish smile. "I wasn't really sure what I could bring, so I just got my clothes and necessities."

…No, not really. He had been attending multiple universities and colleges ever since he was eighteen. He would know what he could bring. It just was too hard to bring a refrigerator and all those appliances if he just would up and leave in the next few months.

He didn't plan to stay any longer, in any case.

"Are you a freshman?" Touya asked, amused.

Fai gave a slight pout. "No, it's just that I've stayed with the same university to get my bachelor's. It's still hard moving." Lying through his teeth, he turned back around to his bed and started to unpack. He was starting over, yet again.

"Oh. There's the freshman kid," Touya remarked after a moment, walking out of Fai's line of vision and to the common room. Fai snapped out of his daze.

He turned around, finding a teenager dressed in a blazer and jeans at the glass doors, knocking on the automatically locking door. He was carrying a large box in one hand and tugging an even bigger luggage roller.

"Got your key this time, Syaoran?" Touya was saying, opening the doors and taking the large box.

"Yes," the boy replied reluctantly, probably to the security guard hefting his belongings from him. "Thank you for telling me, Touya-san." Japanese? Fai's eyebrow quirked. Twice in one day. Novelty.

He sprang to the boy's side, chirping out, "I'm Fai! Nice to meet you, Syaoran!"

The boy looked visibly frazzled at his cheeriness and lack of suffix, but smiled tentatively back. "Nice to meet you, Fai-san."

Fai grinned. "What are you majoring in, Syaoran?" He could unpack later.

"Archaeology," the boy replied, albeit a bit less stiff with the familiar question. In all cases, university students always got asked the same question, over and over, so it was no surprise--it was practically a prerequisite by then.

Fai whistled in response. "If I looked at that stuff, I'd probably doodle all over the characters," he said sheepishly in reply.

Syaoran just smiled as he rolled his luggage to a dorm room. "Yes," the boy replied. "That's usually what people in my highschool class did." The boy pulled out a key from his pocket and plugged it into the M1 dorm, opening it to a single bed.

"The president was kind enough to give me a single room," Syaoran supplied, rolling in the luggage. Fai hung around outside, letting Touya enter and set the box inside--the security guard was a helpful guy, it seemed.

Touya snorted. "You're kidding, right? Of course she'd give you a single room. Your dad and Yukito have known her for years."

"Ah," Syaoran said, blushing. Fai stored the information away. It was useful, in the very least. After a moment of settling the luggage in the corner, Syaoran got up, saying, "I have a lot more stuff to put in, Touya-san, Fai-san, so I'll be coming in and out."

"Of course, Syaoran-kun!" Fai replied cheerfully, before being interrupted by familiar voices--Kurogane's and Tomoyo's.

"I _told_ you I'm not staying in this damn place!" Fai grinned. Kuro-chan was still going on about the same thing.

"And I told you that you didn't have a choice on this matter." Tomoyo's reply was bored and weary.

Fai walked towards the open glass door (Touya had locked it against the wall), waving at Kurogane--who incidentally, had just looked inside to see his living area for the next year.

His eyes promptly bugged out.

"Hi, Kuro-chama!" A wave.

"Don't call me those nicknames!"

"Aww, but Kuro-tan, I thought you liked them!"

"_When did I ever say I liked them??_"

Fai grinned and tackled him.

* * *

The blond was infuriating in the least, Kurogane fumed. In the very _very_ least. There wasn't a term for what the guy was at _most_ because it simply was impossible to hold the blond in one damn category before he blew it to pieces by reaching a superior level of idiocy and irritability. 

Like, for one, when the blond basically _stole_ his stuff from him and started hiding them all around the dorm common room. They weren't hidden very well, but then he found out that it was on purpose because when he returned, he found more of his things hidden better and better until he had to go through the freshman's closet to find practically all of his clothes shoved in there. Even worse, as soon as he had opened the closet, they fell on him. And, being the abnormally obsessive clean-freak he was, he had to fold them all. Again.

Finally, he had finished getting all of his stuff from Tomoyo's car, having to make four trips--_four_ trips of having his things hidden and then having to find them and fold them and put them back in order--before finally getting all of his stuff in his room. By then, he swore he was going to murder something, and if it wasn't a certain blond, he wouldn't be satisfied.

He had, quite basically, resigned himself to attending Tsubasa. Perhaps it was his mother's last words telling him to get an education and live his life to its fullest, or more simply, Tomoyo's never ending supply of barbs that pinned him in this position, not exactly cornered, but a lot worse--at least, when he was cornered, he could fight like hell and get out. In this situation, he was pinned to the wall and immobilized--a knife to his throat, metaphorically, for each of her threats.

_Even_ when he was twenty three, she was still five years older than him. It had always been like this, after all--ever since he was orphaned at thirteen. She, technically, wasn't his sister--more like some family friend metamorphosed into a sibling. She was the only one that had volunteered to take care of him, even with law school and all of that when he had been… Unstable.

"Kuro-chan!"

_Good God._ The idiot was back to pester him.

Kurogane twitched as he rolled towards the window, his back to the dorm door, not quite blatantly ignoring the guy, but making it quite clear that he didn't want to see him.

"Kuro-samaaa?"

How was he going to_ live_ with this guy for the next year? Or, rather, the more important question, how could he murder the blond without going to prison? Could he plead temporary insanity? It could work, after all._ Anyone_ living with the guy would go insane.

"Kurogane." He bolted upright at the voice. Tomoyo was standing behind him, unusually somber from her usual manic expression.

"Tomoyo," he replied in greeting, almost dreading what came next.

She gave a little smile before placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be checking up on you next week, Saturday, got it?"

"Yeah," he grumbled, looking away. She looked as if she was going to cry, and he could never bear a crying Tomoyo. She had _never_ cried before--and this time, she looked too close.

Then the hand on his shoulder was gone and when he looked up, she had left.

Kurogane could hear parents crying and exclaiming over the freshmen. In a way, it was almost the same as his own case--he had lived with Tomoyo during the first five years of his university education, so they never had to undergo the separation.

And then, the idiot ruined the somber moment by asking the obvious--"Is Kuro-pon sad?"

"Go away," he growled.

Surprisingly enough, the idiot shut up for a moment, staring at him. Then, without a word (which he didn't think was possible), Fai left.

Kurogane thought tiredly about his image. It already had come across as an angry person--really, it was the truth. He didn't need to change himself for the sakes of others. And he didn't need to go through the crap he went through at Japan. Kurogane was fluent in English and Japanese--he didn't need to be ostracized here--yet, he wanted it. There was nothing else to do except wait another year until he could leave, and forming bonds and _connections_ didn't work well with him. He couldn't afford to start over here.

He sighed and collapsed onto the bed. The welcoming week was going to begin soon, and he didn't want to join the freshmen in the rush to get acquainted with the classes. Yet, he had to get familiar with some classes so he could actually attend.

He sighed again, rolling over on his bed. It was uncomfortable. He wanted to sleep on the ground…

With the thought of dismantling the bed frame, Kurogane fell asleep.

* * *

The welcoming week was filled with free souvenirs: slippers, drinks, banners, maps--all things that Kurogane took without attending a single one of the tours or clubs or whatever the festivities that had been prepared.

So, he found himself at his first class: Psychology. The easiest class that Tomoyo had signed him up for (he hadn't planned on attending in the first place, so it was quite obvious that she had registered indeed, _everything_ for him) by far--the rest was a jumble of gunk that he really didn't want to wade through. All of them were engineering classes and contributed to his engineering major, but they just made him think too much some times.

Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to be expecting the blond mop of hair that popped in his face as his schedule was grabbed as soon as he entered the lecture hall.

His hand was still twitching when the idiot said, "Kuro-sama and I have three classes together!!"

_What?_ Kurogane regained his mind enough to snatch back his schedule while the blond, quite frankly, pouted. Was it even _possible_ for men his age to act like… _this?_

Apparently so, as the idiot proceeded to drag him forcibly to a free pair of seats. Pair, that is, because they were going to sit together amongst the freshmen and sophomores. It was almost like highschool with the annoying cheerleader. And he would be sitting with the cheerleader.

For the next two hours.

Kurogane committed himself to ramming his head into the desk. "Kuro-chama?" the dismayed voice at his right asked.

"What?" he growled into the wood.

"You've almost split the desk into two."

Kurogane jerked his head up to find the desk--…In good repair, and in no danger of splitting.

"You--!!"

"I would like to start the session without further ado." Kurogane looked towards the front of the lecture hall to see that damnable president standing in front of the class and--

Shit, was she the professor for this class? It was _undergrad_ and _unimportant_. Why was she…?

"I would like for all of you to refer to me as Ms. Yanahara," the witch was saying as Kurogane just stared in shock. "Well," she said, looking up to the ceiling as a smirk formed on her face. "Except for _Kuro-chama_ and Fai there." And with definite preciseness, she raised her finger and pointed at them.

Kurogane brought his head down to the desk in a loud collision as students snickered. At this point, he didn't _care_ if the wood broke into tiny little splinters.

Psychology: Easiest class? Yes.

Most humiliating class in the history of classes? Most definitely.

* * *

Kurogane found himself, throughout the week, indeed with three more classes with the blond idiot. That was three more goddamn classes in which "Kuro-chama" became known as the pitiable guy who had to get the attention of Fai--who also became notorious for forgetting the dorm key inside the dorm room, which made Kurogane have to get up every time to let him in and being subject to some prank. 

For example--getting shot with a water gun as soon as he would open the door. Or getting whacked with a bamboo stick on the head. Or being attacked when he left the door open (when he thought that would solve the problem). And the last time he had refused to let the blond in (they had so many schedule points where they would meet at the dorm it wasn't even funny anymore), he found himself with a man that refused to detach from his shoulder for the whole goddamn day.

Ugh.

But, anyway--this particular time, the blond had a three hour lecture period (Kurogane had taken his schedule to find out where he could relax in peace) so he was safe.

Three semester projects had already been given--of the most pressing was the architectural one, if only because he had been assigned a _partner_. The teacher was a level-headed guy that Kurogane couldn't really find it in himself to hate or particularly like just because he didn't do anything that bitchy (like that goddamn witch) or that useful, really.

Turning on his computer (one that he had, at first, disagreed to using before mostly all of the professors decided to put up all the assignments on instead of telling the class), he accessed the school website and then his architecture project class--just a side class (that was somewhat useful for his engineering degree) Tomoyo thought to spite him with, because he _hated_ art.

He scrolled through the names, glancing over the instructions before hoping to hell he didn't have to be paired up with a fanatic or lazyass.

His eyes alighted upon his name, and followed the chart lines to his partner.

Syaoran Hideki.

It took his mind a moment to process that it was that freshman a door down. How the hell did a freshman get into this type of course, anyway? He must have taken a hell of a lot of university courses during his highschool years to get here.

…Yet, as Kurogane stared at the name, bored, it occurred to him it was the same surname as the professor of the class. He closed his laptop, forgetting the fact before he could make any unnecessary judgments.

Whatever. He didn't want to do work right then, anyway.

Since it was his lunch period gap where he didn't have any classes, and since he didn't_ eat_ during it, he decided to laze around the common room, keeping the door open as he grabbed some instant food and shoved it in the microwave. The light clicked on, and he sat down, bored. This was one of the reasons why he didn't like attending a university--it was boring.

Drinking was overrated.

Drugs were stupid.

And, since that pretty much encompassed all of the liberties of college life, Kurogane simply had nothing to do. For all those kids who had curfews, he didn't. For all those kids with an allowance, he worked for his money. For all those kids who wanted freedom, he already had it.

The microwave beeped. "Oh? The large black one is here," a voice remarked.

For a stupid moment, Kurogane wondered over the "large black one", but with a glance to his black T-shirt and pants, he realized it was himself. "Who the hell are you calling black one?" he growled menacingly, half-turning to see the perpetrator as he got up to meet the microwave.

The guy looked like a fourth-year, but altogether too cocky to fit the image with the orange tinted sunglasses and spiked brown hair. But then again, the idiot had his bachelor's and acted like a four year-old, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for this guy to be that old.

"Well, I could call you Kuro-chama, but I wouldn't want to start anything," the guy said, smiling.

Again: Ugh.

Since it was an altogether too good of a point, Kurogane turned back to the microwave and clicked it open. "It's Kurogane," he grunted, grabbing the instant food by the paper wrapping. The smell of cheese made his stomach cringe.

"Oh. I'm Fuuma. I'm in M6."

Kurogane grunted in reply, nose wrinkling in distaste over the gooey cheese undoubtedly in the crust of the thing. But since Tomoyo and him had already agreed freshman year that all meal plans, quite basically, _sucked_, they had resigned him to instant food.

He ate in silence, stubbornly refusing to talk to the Fuuma guy. He didn't want to become "friends" or even "acquaintances"--but again, to say that aloud would be asking for a fight.

Kurogane bit into the thing, a frown marring his face as the cheese hit his tongue, but he wouldn't waste food. Stoic, he focused on chewing and swallowing as he sat in one of the given common room chairs. He heard the Fuuma guy leave--he was annoying, to say in the least. But the cheese was even more disgusting.

It was probably why he didn't sense the blond bundle of sickeningly hyperactive energy that had crept up right next to him and yelled, "Kuro-chama!!"

He bolted up to his feet, fist instinctively going around to swipe at the perpetrator--who dodged, of course. "Dammit!" he roared. "Get the hell out of here, you idiot!"

There was a gasp from the blond idiot, who then started to pull off a guilt trip. "Kuro-rin wants me to leave? How mean!"

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought you had another two hours of class time," he grumbled, taking another bite of his instant food before realizing it was a big bite and then a big bite of disgusting lipids and saturated fatty acids.

Repeat: Ugh.

"Well, they let out early--oh, sorry, Syaoran-kun!" Kurogane looked towards the dorm building door, finding the kid standing there, watching as the blond idiot smile and apologize for ignoring him or something. The kid replied with something before turning to him, a realization coming to his face.

"Kurogane-san," the kid said, walking towards him a step.

"Hm? Does Syaoran-kun know Kuro-chuu?" The blond was giving the confused look. Kurogane twitched at the relatively _normal_ Japanese suffix given to the kid.

"Ah, no," the kid said, turning slightly back to Fai. "It's just that we're partners on a semester project."

Kurogane felt a bolt of sheer brilliance hit him. "Yeah," he said gruffly. "We need to go over who's doing what. Let's go." He stomped out of the dorm building, hearing the kid follow him hurriedly.

The blond didn't follow, surprisingly.

_Thank God. _

* * *

Fai giggled at the flustered Kurogane. He was a funny guy, really. 

Well. So far, Kurogane still had the position of the easiest guy to annoy. Fai walked towards their shared room, closing the door behind him before he let the smile drop. He sighed.

This place was easy to integrate into. Though having more than half the population as Asian, he hadn't been lacking in any "friends." Racial problems had went away the more he had smiled at the people. It was easier to forget Ashura and his looming threat.

He was having fun, this once. Syaoran was an honest guy, and amongst the other people he had met, starting over as "Fai" was nice. Every time, it liberated him and let him dream for a while of a normal life.

Which, of course, "Fai" lived.

His hand twitched.

No cigarettes. No smoking.

Now, with Kurogane gone for the time being, he could finally go to sleep for a while. The first morning when he had woken up, he had found his pillow soaked in tears. It was sheer luck that Kurogane had a later class than him, so he could clean up without drawing too much suspicion. It was all too much to have to hide nightmares.

The afternoon class hadn't really cut out early--rather, he had just upped and left. He had already studied the subject of physics long before, from textbooks, not teachers. He hadn't needed the recap from a person's voice, and he had the rest of the day free.

At least now, he could rest for a bit. Escape.

Just for a bit.

* * *

Kurogane returned an hour later to find the blond in the bed, sleeping. Since he always carried the key with him, he had entered quietly (he always did, really--it was only the idiot who came in with a bang). 

Well. It was a marvel for the blond to be quiet in some state, but he needed to get his bag and go. The class started in approximately--

"Ashura…"

The voice was choked and in pain--and _definitely_ the blond's. Kurogane's head swerved back to the figure on the bed, who was curled up and facing towards the wall; however, Kurogane didn't mistake the shiny apparatus on the blond's face to be glitter--no, those were definitely tears.

And--well, there was definitely a smile on Fai's face, too.

* * *

**A/N: Yes. The _only_ significant part was the last part. I'm sorry. -hangs head-.**

**On second thought.. -hides from angry reviewers- XD; But... Review for the emaciated/starving/dying author for real KuroFai angst?**

**P.S.--For all who don't fanatically obsess over Japanese/know the Japanese language, chama means "little master". "-chan" is the girl way of calling girl friends, and "-sama" is lots of respect for the person. Of which we all know Fai does not have for Kurogane. :D**


	3. Law and Fluffy Lining

**A/N:**I'm sorry for the late update, but a major writer's block just slammed into my brain. ...In fact, it's still there, so please also excuse the OOCness of Kurogane and the skippage of scenes that I simply cannot write. -falls over-

**Disclaimer: TRC doesn't belong to me, but damn, Tokyo Revelations 2 was AWESOME.**

So.. Um.. Please enjoy:)

* * *

**Chapter 3--Law And Fluffy Lining**

**Ten Years Ago, April**

"_Gretel!" Fai called, an unusual sight (or sound) in the spring air. "Gretel, where are you?" He had been waiting for an hour for the little girl to appear with her soccer ball like she always did in the playground. It was an unspoken agreement between them, and it was the first Fai had ever had between anyone as a friend. _

_Friend. The word was pleasant, and he smiled. It was something he'd been doing a lot lately--maybe because he had a real friend now. A little girl with unkempt hair._

_So it was natural that he was worried. Extremely worried, even. "Gretel!" Maybe her parents hadn't let her go, Fai thought to himself, trying to tell himself as much. _

"_Fai?" His head flipped around to the hydrangea bushes, still bare of any flowers. A small hand was sticking out of it, trembling slightly._

"_Gretel!" he shot towards the bushes and grabbed the hand. He pulled her out, leaves and branches and all, and hugged her, a purely spontaneous movement, one that he immediately thought of taking back, but she was clutching at his shirt so hard. "Gretel, what happened?" _

_She was crying into his shirt, tiny frame trembling and shaking like he was the only thing grounding her to earth. She shook her head violently in response to his question._

"_Gretel," he whispered, sitting down on the cement. He didn't know what to do to comfort her, to do anything for her. He was completely helpless, and he couldn't __**do**__ anything._

_Why was he always the helpless one? _

"_Gretel, what happened?" he asked in a firmer tone of voice. She needed him to be strong, he realized. Even though he had never been strong before, maybe this time, he could just pull it off. For Gretel._

"_I can't find my ball," she was sobbing. "I looked and looked and looked in the alley, but I can't find it."_

_Oh. Fai relaxed slightly. She hadn't been in any danger. But why was she so dismal when--_

"_My mommy gave it to me," she sniffed, words muffled into his T-shirt. _

"_Can't she buy you a new one?" Fai was unsure of what he should be doing--no one ever cried to him like this._

"_She's dead." _

_She glanced away, sniffing wretchedly. "Today was the day she died." Her face crumpled again. "And I lost her ball--!!"_

_Fai hesitantly held her. He didn't know what it was like to lose parents. _

_He never really had them._

_After all, they had cursed him._

_And he… _

_His hands tightened around her._

_He had killed them._

Well, hell, after seeing _that_, anyone would be just a tad worried about the idiot having suicidal-like tendencies. Smiling while crying? What the hell? Was the guy a masochist?

Kurogane growled to himself, running the track faster, lapping everyone four times at_least_--it twenty laps for the time being. This was too easy. Ugh. But, sports were the only way to have an excuse for violence without getting kicked out immediately, and Tomoyo would get a notice for improper conduct.

_What the hell am I? A highschool student?_

Ugh.

"Kurogane, you're done!" the coach called. Kurogane slowed to a jog, doing the obligatory extra lap, gradually getting to a walk as the other team members ran by. He had around ten minutes before they finished, and since this was football, he could slack off for a while. After all, they had already gone over most of the initial training stuff--he had won in each and every category, of course.

The sports section of the school was almost a separate campus (seriously, how much was the normal annual tuition?), with the standard football/soccer field with a track set as a border. Then, on the other side of the bleachers, there were six assorted tennis courts. There was another field for baseball, with another (larger) track around that as well, and another building for swimming. Hell, there was a rental golf court across the street on the far side.

Wiping off the sweat with the towel he had thrown on one of the bleachers, he took a sip of water. "Kurogane, good work," the coach said, "that's it for today."

Kurogane nodded, walking off. The tennis courts were still in session, and the dorm was in that way, so, he concluded, it wasn't just him being a masochist by visiting the blond.

Because, of course, the blond _was _there--something Kurogane didn't know until a sweaty body tackled him from behind. "Kuro-chama came to pick me up!"

A roar crawled up his throat, but the energy was invested in delivering a hard blow to the idiot's chest with his elbow, before trying to crack his skull with a punch.

The blond _dodged_ it.

What the hell? Usually normal people would be flying at least a few yards at this height, but he dodged it?

This guy knew how to fight--that was sure.

The blond was hunched over, wheezing slightly from the blow to the lungs (which he should have been coughing over--the guy must've moved back as he was hitting him, damn him), saying, "Kuro-sama, that isn't very nice…"

"Don't sneak up on me!" Kurogane growled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He didn't want to get in a fight, here, anyway. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

The blond pouted, walking alongside him. "I was practicing tennis."

"Tennis?" Kurogane was vaguely interested. But then again, it was the idiot, so it could have been anything.

"I started playing in highschool," the blond said cheerfully, cushioning his head on his hands as he walked.

Wow. Amazing. Kurogane hadn't started yelling yet.

"Are you good?" he found himself asking. The blond looked a bit surprised at his (virtually mild) reply.

Then he grinned. "Yep! I made it to the nationals in my senior year!"

Kurogane grunted. The rest of the walk was spent in silence, or as silent as it could get with the idiot whistling some random tune or other.

"Uh… Kuro-chan, do you have the key?"

Kurogane shrugged. It wasn't a surprise that the blond had forgotten. "Yeah."

He unlocked the door and went in, grabbing some clothes. He was filthy with dirt and sweat. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

A white coat with fluffy lining fell out of the closet as he closed his side, accidentally pulling both doors to the left. He crouched down, about to pick it up and put it back in, before a hand snatched it away from reach.

Instinctively, Kurogane looked towards the blond. His hair was covering his face, the coat bundled up protectively in his arms.

He was almost about to ask what the hell was wrong with him, but, as always, the blond beat him to the punch.

"I'm going to shower with Kuro-pon!" The smile was blinding, in the least.

Kurogane was still crouched, staring at the idiot as if he had grown a second head.

At that point, it wouldn't have made a difference.

A hand tugged him towards the showers. "Kuro-chan, let's wash each other's backs!"

"This isn't a goddamn ofuro!" (1)

Tomoyo visited at the end of the week. They had, of course, gone to a bar--easily enough found, considering the teeming business when freshmen wanted to try out alcohol. And liked it, and stayed with a specific bar until the end of time. However, the bar was oddly quiet for a Friday night--probably because the neon sign wasn't on. It had looked like an abandoned office, even to his eyes.

"So, how's Fai-kun?" Tomoyo said, taking a sip of wine. Cheap, of course. Not like they had enough money for luxuries that the president ordered.

_He's annoying as hell. He sleeps facing the pillow, and has this weird coat hanging in the closet that he gets protective over. He's still annoying as hell, clings to me every moment that he can like a frickin' leech--it's like he made it his personal vendetta to humiliate me._"He's annoying," Kurogane said aloud.

"Wow," Tomoyo said, eyebrows rose in surprise, cocking her wrist at him, hand full with the wineglass. "That's all? I'd expect a rant from you, Kurogane."

"Dammit, he's_annoying_. Is there anything else to say?" Kurogane crossed his arms, irritated that his own internal monologue was, indeed, ranting. _The guy insists I care about him--which I don't. He should get a gender change if he's going to act like a girl._

"You'd say _any_ person that roomed with you is annoying, Kuro-chuu," Tomoyo grinned, not at all tipsy. For all of the heightened alcohol content in wine than beer, she was no lightweight.

He nearly rammed his head into the bar table when she said the name. He already had _enough_ of _that_ during the week at Tsubasa. "Don't call me those nicknames," he growled, instead grinding his palm into his forehead from the incoming headache.

"Hm? Why not, Kuro-chan?" she was smirking at him now, mimicking the blond almost perfectly.

"Ugh. What the hell have _you _been doing, then?" Kurogane asked defensively, avoiding a conversation he really didn't want to have. Most likely than not, she'd view the blond as a "good" influence or some other crap--just because he hadn't punched him through the damn fiberglass windows didn't mean he hadn't _tried_.

Tomoyo gave him a calculating glance before letting the topic go as she took a sip from her wine. The playfulness fell from her features, replaced by something more subdued. "I found a coma patient, minor. She's an orphan, but a patron has covered her fees so far." She looked through the glass, as if deciding whether it was half full or half empty before downing the whole thing.

"A man has claimed that she is his legal guardian--not surprising, I know," Tomoyo said, as if he was arguing. As if it was a courtroom, actually. Kurogane, unused to Tomoyo confiding anything to him, remained silent. "He wants her moved to a different institute, his personal hospital with his care. A rich man, of course. Fei Wong Reed." She set down her glass. "And the coma patient's--Sakura-chan's--benefactor was--is," Tomoyo corrected herself, "Yûko. And she wants me to fight off _his_ attorney."

Kurogane waited for her to continue, which of course, she did.

"Xing Huo. Best of Cali's attorneys, and has never lost in four years since her first case." Tomoyo sighed, crossing her arms. "She's rumored to be in love with Reed."

Abruptly, Tomoyo turned to look at him, realizing she wasn't talking to another lawyer, and simplified: "She certainly won't plea-bargain with me if Reed doesn't say so. It's probably the only way I can get custody for Yûko if Reed actually does have the papers. And he wouldn't start this whole lawsuit without them."

"I'm even more uncomfortable calling an eighteen year old to the stand," she continued. "Syaoran Hideki--he attends Tsubasa. Do you know him, Kurogane?"

Kurogane looked at her then, surprise written across his features.

"_Oy, kid, why're you attending Tsubasa anyway? This isn't a university for archaeology." Kurogane asked, calculating how big the model was going to be. It had to fulfill the requirements, but the figure was coming out much too disproportionate…_

"_Ah," the kid stumbled for a moment, before regaining his normal polite tones. "An important person to me is in the hospital--I can't leave her."_

_Kurogane looked up, then. Dedication was written clear across the kid's features. _

_It reminded him of his mother._

_It reminded him of how she died._

He turned his head back to the untouched glass of beer he had been given, watching the bubbling depths, carbonized air floating to the top in suicidal fashion.

"Yeah. I know him."

* * *

**(1): An ofuro is a japanese bath. Traditionally, no one goes IN the bath until they're fully clean, thus the "wash each other's backs" sort of thing. And, it's a classic in shoujo manga. :)**

**A/N:**So, I've got most of the plot down. It's just the matter of the writer's block... Expect the next chapter in a few weeks, because I'm not sure when it'll go away..

Feed the ravenous author with reviews? Please?


	4. Drunken Memories

**A/N: Holy crap, it's been almost three weeks. Or maybe almost four. My grasp on time sucks--probably the reason why this chapter is so late. I finally got over my writers' block, for all those that care about the author. :) The chapters should be coming out a lot faster, but due to the excess amount of work due to the current time period being, oh, well, second semester, I've got around three projects and one process essay due in a matter of weeks (which really isn't enough). So, there's my big excuse for running away. :)**

**Disclaimer: Yes. I own Tsubasa. It's just that all of the little kiddies can't take this over the bloody eyes and the trading of body parts and such-- -CLAMP chokes me- Uh. Nevermind.**

**Enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter Four--Drunken Memories**

**Nine Years Ago, January**

"_Yuui. It's been a long time." Fai looked up to the unfamiliar name but familiar voice, and then to Ashura. Promptly, he dropped his pen, the clatter being the only sound in his room. He was fourteen that day. Even though he didn't know his real birthday, Ashura gave it to him. A treasure--January 5. He was expecting some card in the mailbox, but Ashura himself appearing…_

_Gathering his wits about himself, Fai leaned down to grab it, shooting a tentative smile in his shocked face's stead. "Ashura," he greeted shyly. "It's been eleven months. I thought you were supposed to be in Concord for another one."_

_Ashura gently smiled back at his surprise. "We finished up early. Did you miss me?"_

"_Of course," Fai said, delight spreading across his features._

_Ashura gave a chuckle, his breath frosting in the cold winter air. "I suppose you're right." _

"_Hey! Ashura's back!" The voice piped from beyond the large window. Gretel rushed inside and jumped the longhaired man. _

"_Who's this?" Ashura asked Fai confusedly, hugging the girl back nonetheless._

"_Gretel," Fai said nervously. Would Ashura object to having a child in his home? "She's an orphan, and well--I just thought that--"_

"_Of course, Yuui," Ashura said, smiling his gentle smile. "How did you become friends with her?"_

"_Well…" Fai smiled back, relieved. Ashura wasn't mad at all. Ashura was home. _

_He explained everything. Gretel made her own insertions from time to time, and Fai would smile. He felt like his face was breaking, he was smiling so much. _

_Ashura just smiled in return._

"Hello, Yûko," the voice was smooth over the phone line. Just like it had been, so long ago.

Yûko Yanahara's eyebrows furrowed. "Hello, Fei."

"Are you seriously intending to go through with this lawsuit?"

The implications were written all over that statement. In the laws of interference, she was the only one who could and he knew it. If Fei was given what he wanted, just like that, there would be no end to the chaos.

Yûko was worried. That, at the very least. Fei was the type of man to use whatever means to achieve his goal.

She had liked that about him at first.

"Yes."

This lawsuit involved more than Clow Reed's heir.

She heard the line go dead in her hands. Just like it did a long time ago.

Yes, it involved much more than that.

* * *

"Xing Huo," Tomoyo nodded. The woman was at least three years older than her, and she had reviewed every case the other attorney had won. Which was all of them. 

And then, they were all in defense of the accused.

_Drug Abuse--three day trial, accused found innocent._

_Murder--four day trial, accused found innocent._

_Rape--six day trial, accused found innocent._

_Theft--five hour trial, accused found innocent._

And it continued like that, a long string of victories in almost record times. Each tape had the woman attacking the weaknesses of the prosecutor's case, no matter how small. Even one, with an Amish woman being the opposition, Xing Huo made her look guilty of false accusation.

"Tomoyo Saotome," the older woman replied with a clipped voice.

She was deep in Reed's territory. Tomoyo would have preferred to meet outside of the man's influence, but a camera was clearly focused on them. A ploy for intimidation, Tomoyo thought--the man wasn't a multi-millionaire and had the most sophisticated technology in the world. The camera_was_ for intimidation--it was just that the real ones were too small because they played at two thousand frames per second. Whoever heard of a marketer with such sophisticated tech with a big and bulky frame?

It was the reason she couldn't afford to let a single mistake show, because it would be on tape. And Xing Huo would see it.

"I would like to request a plea-bargain." Her voice was level and calm. She wasn't sweating that much.

"Specifics are needed on that front, Ms. Saotome." Xing Huo's voice was robotic.

Tomoyo almost twitched. Usually, there would at least be a mild geniality about this situation. Attorney and attorney, lawyer and lawyer--cynicism and a sense of personality were almost _required_ or they would lose their minds in their line of work.

Xing Huo was like a damn boulder.

She continued as if it was expected for the other woman to reply like that. "Yûko retains custody of Sakura; however--"

"Denied."

Tomoyo blinked.

_Dammit._

* * *

It was a simple case of who had the papers and who didn't. Tomoyo rubbed at her temple. At this rate, she was going to get wrinkles before she was even married. The pretrial had been completely one-sided. The judge was an impersonal man that had a pinched look to his face, no family--and probably a bachelor that was just ogling Xing Huo's assets. How did a guy like _that_ get to be a judge? She had only badgered him enough for a two-week prep period. 

The blank document on her screen blinked at her menacingly.

So, since Fei obviously had the papers, it was now a matter of who was more suited to take care of Sakura. Hopefully, the jury had more of a conscience than the judge.

It was time to dig up some blackmail.

The workload was actually easier than his other school, surprisingly enough. They had already settled down, and it was still only around four hours each day. Without distraction, around three hours. Even more shocking, when the blond actually had work, the guy didn't stop working every other minute like the ADD idiot he was.

Kurogane stopped typing for a moment to look out the window. It was raining again. October. He sighed and turned back to the computer. The essay was due the next day, and they demanded the concrete detail and commentary crap… Ugh.

"Kuro-chuu." The blond wasn't squealing. It was just his name. A nickname, nonetheless, but…

Kurogane sighed again and rested his chin on his hand. "What?"

"Are you going to the drinking party tonight?"

Why would he? "No."

"Hmm? I guess not. Kuro-tan's the type to be the chaperone instead of have fun…"

He twitched, but it was too tiring to blow up at every prod at his pride that the blond posed. And he had to do this stupid essay…"Whatever." He straightened his back and started typing again.

"Kuro-chan?"

He paused. "What?" He continued typing.

"Can you come with me?"

He paused again. "Why?"

"I want to see Kuro-pon get drunk."

…What the hell type of reason was that? Dammit, at this rate he wouldn't even finish the body paragraph, much less the whole essay.

Stoically, he continued typing.

He was stopped two words later. "Kuro-chama?"

"_What_?"

"Please?" The voice was in the puppy-dog mode.

Kurogane weighed the benefits of finishing his essay against the idiocy of going to a drinking party. At this rate, the idiot would keep on interrupting his line of thought. It could drag down his grade by five percent if he didn't turn it in, and the professor didn't accept incomplete essays. He was already at the brink of a B, and a low GPA wouldn't get him to where he wanted to go. There was also that job interview at that vendor's place the next day. Well. He wasn't going to get drunk, anyway, so it shouldn't be too bad…

"If you shut up until it's time to go, then I'll go, dammit," he growled.

Really, he didn't even want to start thinking of what he had just signed himself to. He might regret it more than he already did.

* * *

It was twenty minutes in and Kurogane was regretting it. Already, the blond was going around like he was drunk (which he highly doubted), and it was so damn loud-- 

"Kuro-sama!! Come drink with us!" The blond appeared in front of his face, a faint flush on his face. Then again, there was always a flush--the guy's skin was so pale that any exertion would make it go pink.

But how the hell did he keep on popping up from nowhere?

"No."

"Ehh? Why not?"

"It's stupid." There were various groans from the drunkards (primarily Fuuma,, Shougo, Sorata, and some random underage kids Maru and Moro).

"Ehhh? Kuro-sama can't beat me in a drinking contest, then!"

…Yeah, _right._

"I didn't know this was a competition," Kurogane smirked. As if he would back down against the idiot.

Two shot glasses were set down in front of them. "Whoever loses pays," Touya said, grinning.

Kurogane didn't have the money on him.

Then again, he wasn't going to lose.

He grabbed the shot glass and downed it in one go, setting it on the table once he was done. Ugh. It was bitter stuff. Exactly the reason why he didn't drink.

The blond drank it slower than him, but then the bartender had poured the next shot, and Kurogane was ready to drink it. Even if it tasted disgusting, he wasn't one to lose.

And, well, money was on the line.

They went on like that for the next ten shots, the overall generic quality of the drinks making it hard to swallow again and again. He felt tipsy, but he supposed Tomoyo's hardcore drinking style was passed onto him. For some reason. Even if they weren't family.

The incoherency--the second reason why he didn't like drinking.

Eleventh shot, and the blond was slurring like crazy.

Twelfth shot and the blond passed out, his head thunking into the table with the grandeur of a dead horse falling over.

He won. And the idiot thought he could actually _beat_ him.

Cheers erupted.

"Fai pays, Fai pays!" the underage kids chimed, sending slight pinpricks of pain through the haze of drunkenness.

Not much of a win when he felt like he was getting a little headache. Nevertheless, since he was sitting right next to the guy, he reached into the blond's pocket and grabbed the wallet. A little weird to go into some other guy's pants. But whatever.

Flipping open the wallet, he brought out a hundred dollar bill cushioned in the other bills there (seriously, how rich was the guy?) and handed it to the bartender.

More cheers as the guy slipped it into his pocket, grinned, and brought out a fresh case of beer.

The party eventually moved elsewhere as they mobbed the alcohol.

Still a little bit out of it, he spent the next ten minutes looking over the blond's wallet. His sense of equilibrium was off, and it kept on distracting him as he fumbled with the thing. There was nothing special in it--a driver's license, basic ID cards, a few hundred dollars… Why the hell would someone have this much money at a drinking party? He could get mugged.

He closed the wallet a little clumsily, missing the buckle for it a few times before it clicked. The alcohol must've shot his normal functions to hell.

Heh. Shot. Ha.

…Apparently, his sense of humor was shot as well.

"Hey, Kurogane, take Fai home will you?" Shougo grinned, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

What the hell? This guy was _seriously_ drunk if he was treating him like a buddy. Ngh.

The sentence processed through his mind a moment later.

"Hell no--" he started, taking a moment to find his voice, but Shougo's ears seemed to not have heard him as he continued.

"I doubt any of us are going to be able to lug another person's ass back after that free ticket. Thanks, 'nd bye!"

…And then he was left with the blond, wallet in hand like nothing else.

_Oh, fuck_.

He swore there was a grin on the idiot's face.

* * *

"_Kuro-chan is so nice._" 

With a start, Kurogane realized that the idiot was finally awake. He was driving them back grudgingly, making sure that the Shougo guy's face was carefully fixated in his mind. He would get something for this, he was sure.

Back to the matter at hand, he was speaking in Japanese.

_Japanese_.

He would have never thought the blond even knew any remotely Asian language with the Caucasian looks. Maybe the guy just spouted off some random syllables that his receptors took as a language he knew.

Maybe.

So he replied in a low growl, "_It's not like I was just going to leave your sorry ass there._"

The guy laughed and replied with a tinkle: "_I never knew Kuro-chan thought of me like that." _

He flushed, but the idiot was in the back seat, so it wasn't as if he could see.

…Yeah. The idiot was bilingual. Great. Another language to humiliate him in. But it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him--the guy clearly referenced the "chan" and "sama" jokes…

Whatever.

"You know Japanese?"

The guy's tongue was as free as the wind, it seemed. "I lived in Japan for elementary. Moved here when I was fourteen."

Kurogane realized that this was the first thing that he'd heard of the blond's past. Or of Japan in the blond's past.

"Why?" He didn't really know why he cared. He blamed it on the alcohol and the flashing lights. This was the _last_ time he ever would wear sunglasses to avoid crashing.

At the lack of reply, he glanced at the rearview mirror to make sure the guy was still awake. He didn't need to be talking to himself.

The look that was focused on the back of his head made him flinch. Even if he was emotionally stunted and quite frankly apathetic, he knew the look was painful. Sad. Helpless. --After all, he had seen the same look on his face when he was in the bathroom, throwing up because he couldn't get rid of the image of his dead mother out of his eyes.

Only her head, the one that was still talking after it had been taken off of her shoulders. The one that smiled like it always did and said, "I love you". The one that had been drenched in blood that was both not her own yet_was_ from the bullet--

He pulled off the road violently, slamming on the brakes as he simultaneously opened the door, rushing out before the car even reached a full stop (he had already put the car in park, anyway) and threw up for all he was worth.

Nausea rolled over him in waves, each one ending up in a pile of acid on the cold asphalt, splattering and looking disgusting as he could only try to stay in control.

"Asshole! Don't stop like that!" Distantly, Kurogane's mind registered the insult, and he vaguely remembered lifting his middle finger to point in the general vicinity of the voice.

He gagged on the last bit of nausea, spitting it out as he breathed heavily.

_Fucking alcohol_.

"Kuro-chan? Are you all right?" Slender hands tentatively rubbed at his back and supported him. Involuntarily, his body relaxed into the hold, but now that his head was clearer, he could actually think straight.

He was never going to drink again. Too many drinks induced too many images that he'd rather not remember. Drinking to drown out the past? Drinking made him _remember_, goddammit.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he growled, still letting his head hang down, partially because he was still trying to get his bearings straight and partially because he sure as hell didn't want to swallow back the stomach acid that tasted like crap in his mouth.

Abruptly, a paper towel was offered in front of his face.

He stared at it for a moment, thought process sluggishly trying to make sense of the situation.

He had run at least two meters away from the car. How the hell had the idiot been able to get over here that fast if he was dead drunk? _And_ he had paper towels to clean him up with.

Those were questions he'd have to answer later. But for now, he took the towel and wiped his mouth, getting rid of the disgusting residue and standing up straight. The hands left immediately, and the blond took a step back.

He glanced at the guy's face. "Thanks."

A cheery smile. "You're welcome, Kuro-chuu!"

He let the name slide.

Walking back to the car, he started the engine again as the blond chose to sit in the seat beside him instead of behind.

There wasn't really anything to say, but a barrier had been breached, and they both knew it.

* * *

**A/N: More tonesetting. Yay. (And yes, I have been trying to update for a day. FF kept cutting out on me.) And yes, Japanese in this story will be in italics. **

** Feed the hungry/starving/dying/hemorrhaging/bleeding/emaciated author:)**


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